Resolve
by DearLadyDisdain
Summary: "I loved you, so I drew these tides of men into my hands and wrote my will across the sky in stars." Separated by the impossible, Rose knows that she will find her way back to him, and he to her.


From an idea I've had knocking around my head for a while. If I feel so inspired, a companion piece from the Doctor's POV(ish) may be added.

Title: Resolve  
>Genre: RomanceHurt/Comfort  
>Characters: RoseTen  
>Summary: "I loved you, so I drew these tides of men into my hands and wrote my will across the sky in stars." Separated by the impossible, Rose knows that she will find her way back to him, and he to her.<p>

Disclaimer: All our base are belong to BBC. Also, the quote in the summary is from T.E. Lawrence.

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><p><em>Even the stars are different here<em>, she thought to herself.

She had been in Pete's World a total of 47 days and 18 hours, and never failed to be surprised by the little details. Like the types of soda or minor historical events, or the positions of the stars. They shouldn't surprise her, but they did.

It had been 23 days and 20 hours since she had seen the Doctor's image on a beach in Norway. Now that she no longer had a time machine, she kept track of time obsessively. It was the only way she had managed to stay sane.

Rose breathed in the cold night air and leaned against the railing of one of the mansion's balconies, the noise from the party downstairs wafting up to her. Her mother had taken on the task of entertaining with a scary amount of determination, and that determination had extended to Rose. Her mother had demanded that she buy herself a presentable dress and make an appearance at the party that night. She had argued with her mum about leaving her alone to study for her A Levels (Torchwood still wanted some variety of legal credentials), but Jackie had left a long black dress on her bed and demanded that she make herself up for the night. The mysterious appearance of the young heir to the Vitex empire had taken London by storm, especially considering the fact that she had literally appeared – fully grown – out of nowhere. According to her mother and Pete, this party was partially for her benefit; a way of cementing her place in society and quelling the rumors and speculation for the time being.

She had made nice with the appropriate people and had smiled her first genuine smile in weeks when she shook hands with President Harriet Jones. But it all felt like an act. Rose knew she was only going through the motions, putting minimal effort into appearing as if she were fine. After a painfully dull hour, she excused herself to the restroom and used the opportunity to find a sweater and escape to her favorite balcony in the mansion.

They were a fair distance outside London, but Rose was grateful that she was able to see more stars (save for the offending zeppelin or two) than she would have otherwise. The moon was nearly full, she noted as she crossed her arms against the cold.

She had asked him if they could go to the moon. Once, she had asked him. And they had.

They weren't able to step outside the TARDIS, but through the open doors they had gazed upon the surface of the moon, holding hands, believing in forever.

_No_, she thought. _Stop. Wrong world_. She knew that moving on would only be harder if she kept dreaming of him.

But how could she not?

The music had changed downstairs. She could vaguely make it out as an old big band tune… "In The Mood," she remembered. She remembered vividly. Slow dancing. World War Two. Jack. Bombs falling. The Doctor dancing.

Rose focused her attention back to the moon and stars. He had told her to have a fantastic life, but how? How did he expect her to get out of bed without the prospect of a new adventure to look forward to? She had lived as she had never dared to imagine, never in her wildest dreams, and she was supposed to go back to a normal life? And enjoy it?

"Knock, knock."

She turned to find Pete leaning against the door, holding two flutes of champagne. She gave him a small smile and turned back to the night sky. He placed one flute on the railing in front of her.

"Jacks said you've been coming up here every night."

"Not much else to do when you can't sleep."

They fell silent as a zeppelin blocked the moon.

"I do know a bit about astronomy, you know. That's the big soup spoon there," he pointed at the stars. Rose laughed.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, "it's just the little things that are different over here. In my world it's called the Big Dipper."

Pete shook his head, muttered "crazy," and pointed at where she knew Orion was. "That's Jaeger, or The Hunter there, and right there," he pointed at Sirius, just below Orion, and continued, "is Bad Wolf."

Rose's head snapped down and her eyes fixed him in an intense stare. Her heartbeat rang in her ears. She could feel her breathing getting heavy and wondered if she had somehow misheard. "What?"

"The Bad Wolf star," Pete explained. "You know, brightest star in the sky, part of Canis- "

"Why is it called Bad Wolf though?" she demanded.

Pete shrugged. "Who knows? Probably ancient Greek mythology or something. Is it important?"

Rose's head snapped back up to the star, her mind teeming with impossibilities.

"Rose… Rose?" Pete asked, looking at her curiously. "Are you okay?"

Without warning she threw herself against him in a desperate hug.

"I'm so unbelievably… fantastically okay. You… thank you." She hugged the mystified Pete for another moment before breaking away and placing a swift kiss on his cheek. "Thank you so much."

Rose turned back to the edge of the balcony as Pete walked away, shaking his head. She picked up the flute of champagne and took a drink. It tasted sweet and it warmed her throat.

She had hope. Rose Tyler, desperate and defeated only a minute before was filled with hope. After the events at the Torchwood manor, Rose had asked the Doctor what the werewolf had meant when it had said that there was "something of the wolf" about Rose. He had explained to her what happened on Satellite Five and what Bad Wolf really was. It was her. She had scattered herself in time and space, in what she thought was her way of saving the Doctor on Satellite Five. She thought they were done with Bad Wolf, but it was only the beginning.

_The beach in Norway_, she thought, _and the star_.

It was her.

But why? She wrote herself into all of time and space – including other universes – for a reason. A signal? A beacon to the Doctor? A warning? A reminder?

Rose looked at the star again, hoping beyond hope for some kind of sign. A twinkle, an explosion. Anything.

Nothing. She sighed, took another gulp of champagne, and glanced back up at the moon. She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or something far more wonderful, but she felt a stirring in her chest as she stared at the sky. _Bad Wolf?_ she thought wishfully.

What she heard was so faint that she thought she had imagined it, but the reply came: _"Yes."_ It was faint, but there. And she remembered.

She remembered the power of time flowing through her veins as she destroyed the Daleks to save the man who had saved her so many times. She remembered the burning pain in her head. She remembered his face, strange and odd-looking but not unhandsome, as he took her in his arms. She remembered his smile as he took the vortex from her with a kiss.

But the Bad Wolf showed her things she had never seen. She saw him, face pressed against the sterile white wall at Torchwood. She saw the tears on his face as he saw her for the last time on the beach. She saw the water rising around him under the Thames, distraught. She saw him back on New Earth, telling an unfamiliar woman about the blonde haired shop girl that had saved him countless times and in so many ways.

Rose opened her eyes.

She was still on the balcony in the wrong world, crouched, leaning against the railing as she took in the images of her Doctor without her. She got to her feet and stared at the moon again. The noise of the party and the planet faded around her as she tried to feel his presence. Across universes, she tried with every atom of her being to establish a psychic connection to the only man, non-human or otherwise, that she had ever loved without reservation.

She breathed in and imagined she was breathing his air, breath passing from one set of lungs to the next. If she tried hard enough she could almost feel him standing beside her, fingers woven together. The smell of time and space and age that was so naturally him. The twin staccatos of his hearts clashing against the beat of her lone one. His stubble when he hadn't shaved in days. Almost.

"I'll find you," she whispered to the air. "I've lost you before, and I'll find you again. But promise me you won't ever stop trying. Never stop trying to be happy. You deserve to be."

Rose smiled as tears of happiness welled in her eyes. She felt as if she could jump across universes. She could feel the Bad Wolf retreat inside her, ready to fight another day. She spared one last look at the stars and stood on her toes to kiss the air where she knew his mouth should be. "I promise you. I'm coming."

She tossed the rest of her champagne off the side of the balcony and walked inside, prepared to break down the walls of the universe to find the man who had once told her to run.


End file.
